Few directors in the history of film have had so much influence based on so little output as the French pioneer Jean Vigo. Born in 1905 to militant anarchist parents, Vigo lost his father early in life and spent much of his youth in hospitals and boarding schools. After attending the Sorbonne, he began work in the growing film industry and eventually bought a camera of his own. This led to his first two projects, the short films À propos de Nice (1930) and Taris, champion de natation (1931). In both films, Vigo imprinted an innovative and original style on ordinary subject matter. In 1933, he wrote and directed Zéro de Conduite, a scathing semi-memoir about a revolt at a French boarding school. The film was banned in France, and Vigo was accused of being “anti-French.” A year later, he completed his first feature-length film, but the Gaumont studio recut it without his advice or consent. Jean Vigo died just two weeks later, at the age of 29.
Of L’Atalante, Pauline Kael said that “in some ways it’s more pleasurable in the memory than while you’re seeing it.” She’s right, but that’s as it should be. The film is like an old love affair—you have to experience all the mood swings before you’re allowed to have the fond reminiscences. It’s a strange, surreal romance set in the unlikeliest of places, but full of all the humor, jealousy, erotic tension, and passion of any great love affair.
The film begins as newlyweds Jean (Jean Dasté) and Juliette (the luminous Dita Parlo), fresh from their wedding, stride purposefully down to his river barge, L’Atalante. There they bid adieu to her small village and Juliette is introduced to the barger’s life. The amorous couple are happy in each other’s company as they cruise the Seine, but the ingenuous Juliette desperately wants to see the sights of Paris. Jean makes promises, but his obligations as captain leave little time for shore leave.
During a short visit to the city, Juliette is charmed by a street peddler (Gilles Margaritis), arousing Jean’s jealous nature. (The scene is a hilarious counterplay between the roguish fellow’s acrobatic, antic come-ons to Juliette and Jean’s frowning disapproval.) Her growing affection for old Père Jules (Michel Simone), the barge’s salty, cat-loving first mate, only makes things worse. When she sneaks out for a night on the town, Jean sets sail without her.
Their separation gives Vigo a chance to put together a brilliant montage that alternates between the two lovers. While Juliette tries to find work and shies away from strange men, Jean spends hours looking out at the river and brooding. At night, as they lie dreaming in different beds, they reach out to caress and kiss each other, their need as urgent as any waking desire. Vigo gives their love an almost mythical intensity, a seemingly predestined inevitability; when Père Jules finally finds Juliette in Le Havre and reunites her with Jean, it feels less like coincidence than fate. Isn’t that the best way to remember an old love affair?
Ironically, Jean Vigo’s “anti-French” work was a source of technical and artistic inspiration for several of the New Wave directors whose films would come to define the French cinema. In 1990, L’Atalante was restored to Vigo’s original conception, reaffirming his critical reputation and considerable influence.